I Bought Your Love
by Hibisha
Summary: Yata Misaki just wanted to spend his 20th birthday with his friends, hanging out and getting drunk. Going to a strip club was definitely not part of his plans. Deciding to skip out on his own party, Misaki's night takes an unexpected turn when he ends up spending time with the gloomiest asshole he had ever come across.


And I'm back with another useless plot that has been swimming in my head for so long, it needed to get out. =.=" I don't know why but I started this as a drabble with barely 1000 words and somewhere along the way, I lost myself and when I finally came back to world, this was on my screen, with monstrous 6000+ words and I had to edit it, well, painstakingly.

Also I'm not sure why Munakata needed about two pages just for his introduction. But he did.

* * *

 **"I Bought Your Love"**

"I need better friends."

This observation was made by Yata Misaki as he sat brooding in the corner of a local bar he liked hanging out at with his so called 'friends'.

Friends who were currently leaving him behind to go to a near by strip club.

Pushing himself to his feet, he barely heard them call out their goodbyes as he stomped his way back towards his apartment complex.

It wasn't as if he was _scared_ of females. They just made him highly uncomfortable. Add that to them being almost nude and you have a recipe for disaster. Misaki knew that his friends didn't mean any harm but they had initially gotten together that night to _celebrate his 20th birthday_ and now they were going out.

 _Without. Him._

He angrily kicked at a pebble which was innocently sitting in his way.

So much for a 'fun night out'.

Sulking, he decided to make a small detour and made his way over to a nearby internet cafe that Kamamoto had told him about. He entered and quickly crossed over to the farthest corner of the shop and sat down in an open cubicle. A quick survey around the room told him that apart from him, the cafe was empty.

Well except for that one guy brooding in the other corner.

Holy fuck, was it even possible to look that demented?

Ignoring the presence, he went back to the screen and stared at the page he had loaded up.

* * *

 **~ Scepter 4 ~**

 **Welcome to the place of your wildest dreams!**

 **Where we give you what you want and so much more.**

 **Click on continue and explore a world you never knew existed.**

 **[** **Continue** **]**

* * *

A rental site.

More importantly, a _boyfriend_ rental site.

In hindsight, Misaki knew this was a bad idea right from day one. But his friends had been adamant about it and had been constantly bugging him to just ask out somebody already for the past few days and in the end, he had resorted to this.

Clearly _not_ the idea of the year.

Clicking on the button which was clearly urging him to continue, he stared at the screen in fascination as it was suddenly filled with pictures of gorgeous men, each more beautiful than the other, prettier than any one he had ever seen in his life. Smooth skins, large eyes and smiles that could melt glaciers - did these men even exist? If so, why hadn't he ever had a run in with any of them?

The closest he'd ever gotten to a beautiful man was his boss and his best friend during summers.

What sorcery was this?

Friendly reminder to the world that Yata Misaki was gay.

That was, technically, half the reason he was on the site in the first place and not out at some club looking for a potential partner. When he had come out to his friends, they had been supportive but none of them had any clue on how to pick up guys. And Misaki was sure _"Just go up to her- I mean him, sling an arm around err- his shoulders and compliment his perfume."_ wasn't going to cut it no matter how many times Chitose argued about it.

He didn't even want to get in a relationship but the stupid Eric and Bandou had kept going on and on about sexual frustrations and what nots and in order to shut them up, he had built a plan.

So here he was, resorting to a fake boyfriend.

Well, he never said it was a _good_ plan.

A loud cough startled him out of his own internal miserable monologue. The man had gotten up and was stretching. Misaki suddenly had an image of a large black cat doing the exact same thing. Lean and elegant, the man scooped up a notebook which had been lying near by and began to walk away, taking long purposeful strides. Pulling off a coat from the rack, he shrugged it on and left but not before Misaki had caught a good look at him. He was dressed in clothes that seemed to have come straight off of the cover a cheesy romance novel that Misaki had most definitely _not read_ as a teenager - not at all. But of course _his mother_ had and that's why he knew about those kind of people - all dark and mysterious.

Wow, and Misaki had thought he was just a bum.

Of course, in retrospect, the man could just be a dark and mysterious bum so Misaki didn't feel all that bad.

Too bad he hadn't gotten a good look at that face though since half of it was hidden by his bangs which had initially seemed messy but it reality had been carefully styled.

No, Misaki had _not_ been staring.

He had been...observing...for reasons that he didn't want to think about.

Sexual frustrations...

Oh God, Eric was getting to him.

Hastily, he looked back at the screen in front of him which was now showing a questionnaire of sorts.

 **Preferred age?**

Well, near 20 of course. He'd like someone his own age. So someone in his early twenties...

 **Gender?**

Wait, who's gender? His own or the person he was booking? Technically, it was male for both but what if they sent him a female?

That'd be fucking _horrifying_.

He'd go with male. If something fucked up, he'd blame their stupid site for not being specific enough.

 **Cash or credit?**

Okay, seeing as he was trying to keep this as down low as possible and not trying to have all of this leave any evidence that any transaction of the sort had taken place...hadn't Kusanagi-san once said something about credit leaving a paper trail? No. It was why he was in the stupid cafe in the first place; in case Chitose somehow managed to get into his internet history - again - and figured out that he wasn't actually dating the Adonis he was going to be prancing around with.

No, he didn't want this to be traced back to him.

Cash it was.

 **Name?**

Misaki pulled away from the screen and stared at the question as if it were personally offending him. And it was, in some ways. Biting his lower lip, he stared at the screen internally debating with himself.

He should call the whole thing off.

This was a stupid idea from the start.

He didn't have to listen to what his loser friends were saying.

A flash of a smug blonde was all it took for him to angrily punch in the characters for his name.

 **[** **Yata** **Misaki** **]**

Clicking on the 'next' button, he sat back in a sort of daze.

He had really done it.

Now he understood why his mum had always warned him about choosing his friends with care and how they could wreck his life - look where it had gotten him. He needed to listen to his mum more often.

Suddenly, soft music began playing through the headphones he had connected to the computer, bringing his attention back to the monitor. Pictures of six heavenly gorgeous men stared back at him, all of them smiling serenely.

Well, _nearly_ all of them.

One looked as if he was about to stab someone to death - rather painfully.

Coincidentally, he was also the one who was ranked first in the site's popularity vote.

 _What the fuck? He looks murderous! HE HAS A FUCKING KNIFE IN HIS MOUTH!_

Even as he thought it, Misaki had to grudgingly admit that the man was absolutely breath-takingly beautiful.

Long black lashes lowered to gaze back defiantly at the camera. Inky black hair framing blue eyes that seemed to stare into the depths of his soul, hand out stretched as if he would reach out and take him away from this world and to someplace else.

Nope, _he hasn't read those stupid novels_.

His gaze was inexplicably drawn to him and then he read the name and his bio-data: **Fushimi** **Saruhiko** **, 19, I hate everyone and everything so just fuck off.**

Then added as an added after thought, clearly by another person: **He's fragile.**

Wait, fragile? _Fragile?_ The person was holding a knife. _In. His. Fucking. Mouth._

Shaking his head, he looked at the other people.

 **Domyoji** **Andy, 20, half Japanese, half Italian, all sexy~**

 **Hidaka Akira, 22, I like taking walks in the park and having nice talks. And I don't mind big crowds.**

 **Fuse Daiki, 23, I like having a quiet dinner for two.**

 **Enomoto** **Tatsuya, 23, I like anime and** **cosplay~We're** **going to have so much fun.**

 **Goto** **Ren, 22, Likes to collect rare objects and go on treasure hunts.**

Misaki tilted his head, frowning as he stared at all of them with distaste. Really, no one from this list was someone he would like to spend time with. No one except...

His eyes were once again drawn in by the raven haired man with his icy stare.

It couldn't actually hurt.

He was already paying for it.

Just...one...click.

* * *

"You have got to be kidding me." Saruhiko glared at his PDA, trying to decided what idiot had asked for him this time.

 _Yata_ _Misaki_.

What kind of an idiotic girl would ask for a guy who basically not only had a knife clenched between his teeth but also had, in no uncertain terms, told people to get the fuck away from him?

He didn't even know _why_ he was working for the stupid company, only that the man running the business seemed to be overly fond of him and had a pay cheque ready for him even when he refused to work.

Well, being the favorite did have it's perks.

Also, some morons had apparently voted him as the most hottest in the whole stupid squad – yes, he said squad because that's what they called themselves - not colleagues, like they were, or fellow workers but a _fucking squad_ like they were part of a secret organization that handled supernatural things and such. A squad, to which his boss had assigned him as a leader.

Him.

Fushimi Saruhiko.

In charge of all those ignorant buffoons.

He didn't even _like_ anyone in his stupid work place.

Back to his current dilemma, he stared at the information set in front of him.

 _Yata_ _Misaki_ _, age 20, wants a male_ (obviously).

That was it.

No additional information on whether this woman was a psychopath or where she lived even. He was supposed to trace her whereabouts through GPS tracking. What the fuck did Munakata Reisi think he was doing?

 _"I'm training you all."_

Training them all for _what_ , he had no idea. No one did. After tracing back the order to the person's location, he sat back and blinked, letting out a small puff of air through his mouth.

What a bother.

Really, he had just stepped out of that stupid cafe minutes ago.

Also, he hadn't seen anyone there. Except for maybe that junior high kid way at the back in the weird stupid beanie who wouldn't stop staring at him. Seriously freaked him the fuck out. Who stared like that anyways, with eyes all bright and shiny and looking so - amazed.

Saruhiko could literally count on his fingers on one hand how many people had given him that kind of look.

No one.

It had irritated him.

So now what was he supposed to do?

Looking up, he glared at the door that led to his boss' room. He usually avoided it like the plague, not being the only one actually. For some strange reason, everyone who worked for him respected the fuck out of Munakata and idolized him and revered him as some great being that couldn't be out shinned by even the brightest star in the sky - except literally no one wanted to even _talk_ to him.

Not that Saruhiko blamed them. That man had some _serious_ personal space issues which needed to be resolved - fast. Also, he was like the perfect being; just a little _too_ perfect. He literally _scared_ everyone away, people opting to admire him from afar.

Sort of like how one would look at a wolf and go, "Look at that majestic beast." but of course no one would want to go and _pet it_.

That would be plainly stupid.

This job was plainly stupid.

And Munkata Reisi was weird.

Sighing, he pushed himself onto his feet and dragged himself up to the door, clicking his tongue as he reached out to knock.

Or at least reached out. Before his knuckles could so much as brush against the polished wood, a calm voice rang out.

"Come in Fushimi-kun, you're just the person I wanted to see. Oh and do shut the door behind you, I'm working on a puzzle and I would appreciate it if Awashima-san didn't see me."

Cross weird, his boss was just fucking _bizarre_.

Awashima Seri, Munakata's secretary probably deserved a really long, nice vacation for putting up with this freak.

"Sir, the latest shitty job-" he began, having forgone common pleasantries and basic work etiquette a long time ago, somewhere around his second month when he discovered that Munakata didn't _expect_ or _want_ him to respect him. That fact in itself had been what had grudgingly won Saruhiko over in the first place.

 _Respect is not simply demanded Fushimi-_ _kun_ _, it i_ _s earned._

The man was annoying but Saruhiko had to admit, he was one of the more talented people he had come across.

But still so fucking weird.

"-is currently difficult as the person you're looking for had been in an internet cafe and opted to pay with cash?" Munakata ended for him, holding up a puzzle piece.

Oh yeah, this guy also just sat and did puzzles in his office all day. It pissed Saruhiko off to no ends.

"Well yeah," he muttered, clicking his tongue, "How am I supposed to find this loser if I don't have any data?" Even as the words slipped out of his mouth, he saw Munakata pull out a sheet of paper and offer it to him.

Of course.

Munakata Reisi was also part of some underground secret mafia because literally no other explanation was justify his having this person's information. Sighing, he just did an about turn and walked out without waiting to be dismissed. Behind him, he heard the older man call him out to shut the door, which he did - no need to push his luck.

Glancing at the address given to him, he slowly made his way...home

What the fuck, this woman lived in the same apartment complex as him?

This was kind of creepy.

Very creepy indeed.

He reached the apartment and snorted. Of course. It just had to be the one that was on the floor just below his. Really, he didn't know any woman named MIsaki lived here so she was probably just using an alias.

Interesting.

Grumbling, he schooled his features into a perfectly blank face.

No one said anything about him having to _play nice_. She asked for this.

Whatever it was.

Tch - he wasn't even interested in girls.

Or human beings in general.

They were noisy, and stupid and often fell short of his expectations.

He had learnt long ago not expect anything out of this society because disappointing him was what it was best at.

Live till you die.

That was his general gist on life.

Clearing his throat, he raised his hand.

Here goes nothing.

* * *

Misaki was sitting on sofa, nervously tapping his foot and glancing at the clock. Shouldn't that guy be here by now? Also, he realized after he had left that he hadn't given up any information on where they were meeting or where he was to be picked up from. So he had just gone home and sat there for a while, until he had decided that, no, he needed to shower and at least look a bit presentable.

So there he was wearing his most fashionable red jumpsuit that Chitose had complimented. Even Eric had said he looked nice.

Although there had been something twinkling in their eyes. And the rest of his friends hadn't even managed to say anything and instead stared long and hard at him. But Misaki figured they were too in awe to say anything.

He had just sat down when the doorbell rang and suddenly all his bravado vanished as the thought of what he had done finally came crashing down upon him.

 _Oh God..._

Grimacing and figuring he should at least go and greet the person at the door, he wobbled his way to his front door and took a deep breath before putting up the fakest smile he could manage and pulled the door open.

One look at the lanky figure standing in the doorway and Misaki forgot how to breath.

Oh fuck, this guy was _seriously_ hot.

Cold blue eyes gave him a once over.

And snorted.

"What the fuck are you wearing?" the other man asked, clearly mocking him. Misaki's eye twitched.

"It's called a jumpsuit. Thought you might have heard of it." he snapped back. This was a very _very_ bad idea. Shit, this guy was a complete asshole.

"Oh really? I call it trash." the other guy responded smoothly. Misaki gawked at him. This was his date? This bastard, right here, in front of him, was his fucking date? _Eric_ seemed like a prince compared to him! The guy on the other hand seemed to be completely bored by this point.

"Could you please go and get your sister now?" he said suddenly, "I don't have time to deal with stupid younger siblings." Misaki opened his mouth and closed.

His...sister?

Younger siblings?

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Saruhiko gave him a look of pure and utter loathing. As if he were an insect he'd found stuck to the bottom of his boot.

"Your older sister, Misaki? She probably wants to see me."

Oh.

 _Oh._

FUCK NO!

Misaki felt his face glow red as heat rushed to his face. This was _not_ happening. He internally wished for the ground to open up and digest him whole.

Saruhiko thought he was Misaki's younger brother.

Because he thought _Misaki_ was a _girl_.

This was so not happening.

The boy in front of him raised an eyebrow, trying to look past him into the house. In one swift movement, Misaki blocked his view.

"Uh right- my sister. Uh-umm..she's out." Saruhiko's eyes found his.

"She's out?" he repeated, his tone flat. Misaki nodded vehemently. Saruhiko cocked his head.

"This is a single bedroom apartment." he suddenly said. Misaki shrugged.

"Yeah so?"

"How come the _two_ of you live here?" Pale blue eyes fixed themselves on him, freezing him on the spot. Oh shit.

"Misaki?" Oh God somebody shoot him dead now. Please. Anyone?

Saruhiko looked as if Christmas had come early. For a moment, the briefest of all moments, Misaki was once again struck by how beautiful the other man was. Suddenly, the grin was wiped off, and the moody face was back once again; the taller of the two looked as if he had come to attend someone's funeral. Most likely the person he was here to kill.

"Figures I'd be bothered by a fucking preschooler. Just my fucking luck. That asshole probably knew and is having a good laugh right about now." he muttered under his breath. Misaki, who had been watching his facial expressions change in absolute fascination, growled out loud.

"I'm fucking 20 you jerk!" he snipped out, "I'm older than you so shut up!"

Saruhiko once again fell silent.

The older boy folded his arms and glared at him. Silence enveloped them as they stood staring at each other, Misaki standing defiantly while Saruhiko shuffled from one foot to another. A couple of minutes passed before Saruhiko finally frowned a bit.

"Look I'm paid by the hour so are you going to let me in or should I just take this as a cancellation and go home? There's a fee for cancellation you know." Misaki's body jerked violently.

Oh right. This was meant to be a date. Which he had paid for. With money.

"Come in." he finally stated grudgingly. "Take your shoes off and try not to break anything." Saruhiko shrugged and followed him inside.

"So what are we going to do, _Mi-sa-ki_?" Said boy froze in his tracks. Turning to look at the raven haired boy, he mentally counted to ten and narrowed his hazel eyes.

"Don't. Call. Me. That."

"Why not? It's _Misaki's_ name after all." The other seemed to be grinning with a sort of malice Misaki hadn't _ever_ seen before. It was a pure, unadulterated viciousness that seemed to make his eyes glow.

Right.

And the description had mentioned something about him being fragile.

What a joke.

Ha ha bloody ha.

"Okay Saru." he shot back just as nastily, deciding that if they were making fun of names, might as well get a few blows in himself. "I hope you don't mind me calling you _my little monkey_ then."

Something flickered behind the other's eyes and for a second, Misaki felt as if he had touched a raw nerve and left the other feeling exposed and vulnerable. Like he had crossed an invisible line he wasn't meant to.

 _He's fragile._

Then it was gone and Misaki could literally see the ice forming over him.

"Okay then" the tone was clipped and brusque, lacking the teasing quality which Misaki had come to associate with him over the span of ten minutes he had known him, "Fine. You win. What do you want to do? There will be no unnecessary touching or kissing. I don't do that sort of stuff. I guess hand holding is on the table though." The change in his demeanor left the shorter male reeling. Wait-what?

"Look," he began, feeling like he needed to say something - anything to calm the other person down, because clearly, the other man had become really upset, "I'm sorry, okay?" An unimpressed gaze fixed itself on him ad he scratched the back of his head, feeling strangely bashful. "We obviously started off on the wrong foot." Taking a deep breath, his face broke out into a wide grin and he stuck out his hand, "I'm Yata Misaki and as you probably know, I'm the idiot who...hired you and not some crazy sister I have." Saruhiko stared at his hand for a few minutes as if it were a poisonous snake, ready to bite him. Then he lifted his gaze back at him.

There was something unreadable in his eyes which made Misaki swallow hard and gave him a fluttery feeling inside his chest. Then he reached out and grabbed his hand.

"Nice to meet you Yata-san, I'm Fushimi Saruhiko and I'll be your date for the evening." The words were quick and uttered with a sort of flatness that almost seemed mechanical – something which Misaki decided he didn't like at all.

"You can call me Misaki." He said impulsively, "I-I don't mind that. Just don't do it in front of everybody else. It's kind of embarrassing." He ducked his head, trying to hide the flush on his face. When he finally deemed his face cool enough to look back up, he realized two important things.

One, Fushimi Saruhiko was still holding his hand.

Two, he was blushing.

It was the faintest of red dusted on his cheeks but it was there, no point in denying it. Misaki felt his fascination return.

Saruhiko was truly beautiful.

The younger teen yanked his hand back and stuck it deep into his pockets and shrugged.

"Okay then Misaki." He said with an air of a person who was used to having people listening to him, "I guess this is fine. So what do you want to do?" Misaki bit his lower lip, worrying it a bit before making up his mind.

This guy probably already thought him a loser so might as well go all the way. Clearing his throat, he waved in the direction of the couch.

"Make yourself comfortable, this might take a while."

* * *

"You're asking me to be your boyfriend in front of your friends so that they stop asking you to go to strip clubs?" Saruhiko didn't know what to make of this person in front of him. Auburn hair that was wild and untamed, just like their owner. Hazel eyes burning with a fire that he wasn't even bothering to hide. There was a word for people like him...

Oh yeah, _idiots_.

"You realize that all this is going to cost you right?" He said, trying to point it out to the other man. Misaki shrugged.

"If it helps me stay away from that place, so be it." He declared, trying to sound breezy but the other could see a small tremble present in his hands. Saruhiko was once again struck speechless. Finally, a thought formulated in his mind.

"Are you by chance scared of females?" He asked, not sure what else to make of this situation. Misaki didn't respond but the way he looked away, glaring at the opposite direction, blushing wildly, was an answer in itself.

Huh.

So it was like that.

"You know this will never work right?" He had to make him see sense.

Suddenly, Misaki grabbed his hands and stared at him with such determination and sincerity that made Saruhiko want to slam him away and walk out that very instant.

No, this was wrong. The situation was wrong. Misaki was wrong. _Everything was wrong_.

But why on earth did everything feel so right?

"If it's Saruhiko, I believe we could do anything together."

No, he needed to get out of there.

Saruhiko couldn't breath.

This was turning out to be an absolute nightmare.

 _If it's_ _Saruhiko_ _, I_ _believe_ _we could do anything together_ _._

Lies.

This person clearly wanted his help and was going to lie to obtain it.

Misaki and he did _not_ make a good team.

Because Yata Miaski was a man who didn't hold back on his emotions and didn't lie about his passions – couldn't lie because of that fire in his eyes which clearly showed. And Saruhiko was-

Cold.

Yanking his hand out of the man's grasps, he sat up straight. Deciding to fold his arms, he narrowed his eyes at Misaki who was looking at him confused and hurt.

 _Yes, keep him at bay. Don't let him close._

"Alright then," he began in a clipped tone, "Your money, your life. I'm not one to say anything." Misaki shot him a small smile and tilted his head.

"Why do you do that?" He questioned, blinking innocently. He reminded the other of a small puppy and Saruhiko had to repress the urge to kick him. Instead he arched his eyebrow up high.

"Do what, Misaki?" He demanded, relishing the way the name sounded on his lips. Only he was allowed to call Misaki as such and even though the fact shouldn't matter, it did. Hazel eyes locked onto his own blue ones.

"Why do you keep pretending to be an asshole every time you start getting comfortable?" Silence.

Saruhiko wanted to run.

How dare he...how dare he speculate anything...like he knew! Like he knew even in the _slightest_ bit of what he had gone through.

Gritting his teeth together, he forced himself to remain calm.

"I don't know what Misaki is talking about." He denied stubbornly. Misaki frowned.

"Don't you pull that bullshit on me," he scolded, "I can tell. Every time you start feeling comfortable, you decide that it's the perfect time to be a douchebag. I don't understand why-"

"I'm leaving." In one swift motion, he was on his feet. "I'm not cut out for this idiotic plan. Ask for Domyoji or Hidaka next time, this is _not_ my cup of tea."

Out.

He needed to get out.

Inhale. Exhale.

Bare.

He felt bare.

Misaki was an absolute idiot.

Misaki didn't know anything.

Yet, he managed to figure out everything.

Misaki was-

-grabbing him by the wrist and yanking him back down sharply, making him land awkwardly, half on the couch, half on his lap.

"What are you doing?" He hissed, squirming to get away. This was harassment. He was going back and complaining to Munakata and then taking a week off. He was going to hide in his room and never come out again. He would live his life like the hermit God had always intended him to be. He had enough savings and it wasn't as if he had any other dependents.

"Chill out." Misaki said, blushing so brightly, that Saruhiko paused unconsciously, just to admire the red coloration on the other's face, "Fucking hell, are you always this flighty with everyone?" The younger glared at him.

"Yes, I do this with everyone, now get off. What's your damage? Why did you choose me anyways? Are you an idiot?" _No one chooses me. I made sure of that._ Misaki pouted.

He fucking _pouted_.

"I just thought you were cool, that's all." He said, staring at him straight in the eyes, making Saruhiko's heart go beating at a rate which was clearly dangerous, "You seemed so amazing and literally the only one I thought I could stand." A twisted smile made it's way on his lips. Misaki had turned to look away from him.

Ah, an opening.

"I'm sorry I didn't meet your expectations Mi-sa-ki," he drawled. The elder's head snapped up to look at him warily, "You'll have to get used to disappointments if you want to hang around me. I'm the kind of person your mother wouldn't want you to associate with actually. In fact, I'm-" The rest of his words were drowned out by the peals of laughter that rang through the apartment.

Blue eyes widened at the sound.

Misaki was laughing.

"I can't believe it." The redhead chuckled, "You're such a big kid." Saruhiko's eyes flashed.

"I really don't want to hear that from you." He snapped, feeling that arguing was indeed a way to prove he was mature, "You even look like a kid!" Misaki grinned.

"Well, it's better than looking like I've been starving on the streets." He shot back smugly, "Seriously, why are you so thin?"

"That's none of your business!"

"Well, right now, you're my boyfriend so I have to make it my business." Saruhiko blinked and opened his mouth, only to shut it again when no words came out. Misaki smirked, having finally shut the other up. Saruhiko glared at him.

"I don't like you. You're an idiot." He decided out loud. Misaki shrugged.

"I can live with that. What I really want to know is," His eyes were beginning to sparkle again and once more, Saruhiko felt something twist painfully in his stomach, "How did you find me?"

"I tracked your co-ordinates." Came a fast reply, without thinking. The minute the words were out, Saruhiko wanted to bash his own head in. Like literally, he was sure they were technically breaking some laws here and-

"THAT'S SO FUCKING AWESOME! YOU'RE AMAZING! CAN YOU REALLY DO THAT?"

-clearly, Misaki gave no shits about it.

Squirming in his seat, Saruhiko mumbled something along the lines of 'it's no big deal, even an idiot could do it.' Misaki shook his head.

"Nope, that isn't true. I'm an idiot so I should know." Saruhiko felt a small smile tug at the corner of his lips and he fought hard to keep it from showing.

"Are you calling yourself an idiot? You shouldn't do that."

"Why not? _You've_ been calling me that all night."

Suddenly, he could breath easily. Sitting there, with the audacious and clearly not-completely-right-in-the-head man next to him, Saruhiko could breath again.

* * *

Misaki smiled as he peeked at Saruhiko from the corner of his eye, who looked like he wasn't going to dart out of the apartment at any given moment. He didn't know what it was but something inside him made him want to keep the other there.

Mostly because, let's be real, it was his birthday and he had no one to celebrate with since his friends were probably too drunk at the moment to respond to his calls.

This was not, in fact, an assumption on his part as he had _act_ _ually_ called and when a completely wasted Dewa had finally picked up, Misaki had been glad he hadn't been with them.

It sounded like there was an _orgy_ going on the other end.

Misaki had squawked and thrown his phone on the other end of the room as if the device had burnt him. Saruhiko had started laughing at him and in that one blissful moment, Misaki had decided that his humiliation didn't matter – he'd take any sort of embarrassment if he could hear that melodious sound again. The rest of the night was spent playing video games - something they found out they both enjoyed.

Misaki kept sneaking glances at Saruhiko and once or twice, he had caught a look of happiness cross the other's face when he thought Misaki wasn't paying attention.

When they weren't playing games, they had resorted to having little petty arguments which didn't seem even the slightest bit wrong - Misaki had actually enjoyed their playful banter, amused at Saru's curt and sarcastic replies.

Of course, eventually, Saruhiko had to leave.

Watching the man get up, Misaki felt a rush of disappointment when Saruhiko announced it was time for him to report back to his job.

Oh.

It was as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on his head and had washed away his euphoria. Of course, this was Saruhiko's job. He wasn't actually on a date with the amazing, grumpy, gorgeous asshole. He was _paying_ for this. His figure slouched a bit as he followed the other back to his front door, where Saruhiko suddenly halted and began to look at him with a guarded and wary look, something akin to expectancy reflected in his eyes.

Oh right, he had to pay him.

"Well then," he cleared his throat, deciding to be the once to break the silence, "I guess this is it huh?" His hand involuntarily went up to scratch his neck - a habit he had for whenever he was nervous. "I guess I'll be seeing you then." Pulling out his wallet, he quickly counted the bills and held them out to the figure in front of him, forcing the fakest grin he could manage on his face.

Blue eyes traveled from the bills in his hand to his face and once again, Misaki was blown away by how enticing the other boy was. There was something in the other's eye that he couldn't place a finger on. Saruhiko's lids were lowered and he was staring at Misaki in an almost thoughtful manner, eyeing the fingers wrapped around the crumpled notes, biting his lower lip.

It was un-nerving and exhilarating at the same time because that look was doing things to him and his body that he really didn't want to deal with at the moment.

No, he really couldn't handle it anymore.

"So goodb-mmph!" The rest of his words were cut off as Saruhiko grabbed his face and slammed his lips against his. Misaki's brain short circuited. His arms, moving on their own free accord, wrapped themselves around the other's shoulder, money fluttering to the ground as he pulled him closer, parting his lips as Saruhiko prodded them with his tongue.

There was nothing gentle about their kiss. It was sloppy and clearly, neither of them were good at it. But Misaki didn't mind. Saruhiko was kissing him.

Saruhiko was _fucking kissing_ him.

A shiver ran up his spine as Saruhiko finally pulled away from the kiss but only so much so that his lips were just millimeters away from his. His warm breath blew across Misaki's already heated face, causing him to whimper slightly. Whatever the raven haired boy had been searching for, he must have found it because he suddenly flashed a triumphant look albeit it was a bit dampened by his own flushed appearance.

"Misaki." He breathed into his ear, before he let go of his face and took a step back looking way too smug for his own good. Pulling out his coat, he took out a slip of paper and scribbled something on it before folding it and tucking it behind Misaki's ear, who at this point was just frozen in place. Yanking the front door open, Saruhiko gave him one final look before he disappeared through the door, slamming it shut behind him.

Misaki's legs gave out beneath him.

 _There will be no unnecessary touching or kissing. I don't do that sort of stuff._

But Saruhiko had kissed him.

Him.

Yata Misaki.

Saruhiko had kissed _him_.

With trembling fingers, he grabbed at the note and opened it. As his eyes scanned the words, his heart felt as if he had just run a marathon.

 _"You don't have to pay me,_

 _Happy Birthday Misaki."_

Along with that, was a phone number.

A slow smile spread across his face, which very quickly transformed into a shit eating grin which was beginning to hurt his cheeks. But he didn't care.

Maybe...maybe the night wasn't complete waste after all.

* * *

I'm not sure how I even ended up with this. It was originally going to be just a small story about how Misaki rented _Akiyama_ because he wanted someone nice and sweet but then Akiyama had to bail out and Fushimi had to step in. It was supposed to be just that but then I began to think *dangerous thing that is* and then SOMEHOW the original idea got completely obliterated. *shakes head* tch - what a waste.

(Not sure why I even attempt at humor anymore. -sigh-)

Also the ending was clearly rushed because *blergh* I DID NOT KNOW HOW TO END IT. IT KEPT GOING ON AND ON!

Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed the story! Drop a review and let me know if I should continue because I was thinking about it but I'm not sure if this is worth it.


End file.
